


Don't Be Such a Fairy!

by Narroch



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dubious Consent, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-09
Updated: 2011-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narroch/pseuds/Narroch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur dimly realized he never saw fairies when he went out drinking; his boozed balderdash probably scared them away. It made him smile seeing the blue bauble bounce before his face, to come out of hiding just to try and help him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Be Such a Fairy!

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this back in '11 on fanfiction.net. Moved it over here to save it from the Purge of Filth.

It was common for Arthur to lose his clothes when completely smashed; a straight-forward procedure that Alfred could easily graph if asked (it worked out to something like 1.5 shots per article of clothing, less if the shots were skulled back in rapid succession). The real mystery lie in how Arthur unerringly managed to find that damn short apron and slip it on without Alfred noticing. Alfred still hadn't quite figured out if Arthur just kept a spare in his jacket or if he always just stole one from the waiting staff while out drinking.

Regardless of how he came about finding it, the apron was a signal to Alfred that it was time to go whether Arthur agreed to or not. Not only was it cause for them both getting kicked out anyway (an embarrassing way to go despite the hilarity inherent in watching Arthur try to pole dance on the bar counter) but it was also incredibly difficult to hide an erection beneath the loose flap of cloth. An erection that was without fail always pointed at Alfred.

It made getting home an adventure in itself, made re-clothing Arthur an impossibility and, ironically, even made sex harder. Arthur was a squirmy cantankerous lay on a good day and being drunk, while having nursed an obvious boner for the past hour, made him downright belligerent.

It was near impossible to give him a blow job while he writhed wildly on the bed, bucking, cursing, dragging his nails down Alfred's arms and back so harshly it stopped being kinky and was just painful.

Finally, after four particularly deep trenches were dug across Alfred's chest, he'd had enough. Alfred whipped his belt off and, after a short one-sided struggle, managed to tie Arthur's hands together around the metal frame at the head of the bed.

Which was how Arthur found himself an hour later: hands still bound and going numb, ass stretched and sore, and his cock still somehow unflaggingly hard. Alfred snored softly to his side; having fucked and sucked him to no avail, he had finally given up with a disgusted sigh and rolled over to sleep.

Arthur had to give him credit. He really _did_ try but sometimes it was impossible to overcome whisky-dick no matter how passionate a lover. Alcohol left him randy but unable to release. And with his hands tied, quite literally, there wasn't much he could do but wait for it to go away on its own as he slowly sobered in the dark room.

Arthur could feel himself start to drift off despite the niggling bob of his eternal erection, pushed to the cusp of unconsciousness by both the alcohol and the late hour, when a cool breeze caused him to shiver awake. There was a soft tinkling of rigid gossamer wings and the effervescent glow of magic, a small blue fairy floated before his eyes, darting up to pull futilely at the belt buckle before soaring back down to waggle his small finger in Arthur's bleary face in mock chastisement for letting himself be ensnared.

Arthur sighed with a smile. Even drunk and tied up, the small magical creatures never judged him or stayed away (or fell asleep and forgot about him). They were reliable reminders of kindness that spontaneously appeared when things were calm and quiet.

Arthur dimly realized he never saw fairies when he went out drinking; his boozed balderdash probably scared them away. It made him smile seeing the blue bauble bounce before his face, the little one must have been brave to come out of hiding just to try and help untie him. However the fairy quickly lost interest in Arthur's hooded smile as he took notice of the cock still ramrod in the air.

The fairy poked at Arthur's cock, obviously curious about the strange newly grown appendage, tracing his hand lightly around the ridge of skin on the head. Arthur squirmed and tried to ignore the pair of tiny hands landing on him in an unpredictable pattern of flitting caresses. The fairy hovered and circled, darting back when a particularly bold stroke hit a sensitive spot and caused Arthur's cock to visibly twitch. The fairy returned seconds later to prod with more confidence, drawing a thin moan from Arthur as the touches became constant. Through his own alcohol-hazed vision and the unpredictability of the fairy's erratic flight pattern that bobbed in and out of his sight, Arthur saw in brief snatches that the fairy was also hard, his small cock rigid and visible beneath the translucent woven spider silk of his loin cloth.

It was strange to see the creature as a sexual being; they always appeared so chaste and carefree around Arthur normally. Childlike in their curiosity. Even as the fairy dragged his fingers through the sticky bubble of precome on the tip of Arthur's cock, the motion still managed to seem completely innocent. Even when he brought his fingers to his mouth to taste and his wings beat faster as he rose in excitement, it seemed to be born of giddiness rather than lust.

It wasn't until Arthur saw the fairy unwrap his loincloth, letting his small erection bob free to match the larger one before him, that Arthur really took note of the situation beyond it just being something out of a strangely amusing dream. The fairy obviously wanted to do something and Arthur wasn't exactly sure what it was or if he would consent. Though being tied up and still drunk certainly put a damper on his ability to defend himself.

The fairy hovered and bobbed excitedly around the erection, unable to hold still. He began to bump his hips up against the cock, backing off just as fast; shyly testing the limits of contact.

The tentative touches made Arthur twitch in anticipation; which he knew was a weird reaction given the situation, and probably bordering on immoral too, but he couldn't help himself with his inhibitions still just as tied up and knocked down as the rest of him. The fairy was gaining more confidence as he began to hump the cock that was as large as him in a sexually-frenzied flight. He even went so far as to land on it, wrapping his arms and legs around the girth and going into a fit of rutting before clapping his wings together and taking off again.

It was a slow torturous process. On again, off again as the fickle fairy never stayed still long enough for Arthur to latch onto the sensation. Pressing here and there in a constant game of vacillation, the wavering contact left him panting and writhing helplessly. It was impossible to ignore the touches but they weren't strong enough to push him anywhere but to a teasing and depraved edge.

As the fairy reached the top he rubbed the bulbous flesh of the head, pressing firmly on the tip and almost kneading his hands while his hips still jerked against the frenulum. Arthur moaned and quickly bit his lip to silence himself. The fairy quirked his head at the reaction and gave an experimental push against the center. His jewel-like eyes widened when his hand actually sunk _inside_ , the skin moist and slippery with precome. Arthur hissed as the fairy abruptly ripped his hand back out and zipped away in a flash of light.

It had burned a little, an eerie feeling strung out between strange and painful. It was just so sensitive, the very tip, the most alive part of him, and the unexpected contact left his head swimming through a static haze. The sensation hadn't yet faded before the fairy was back again, floating in a fixated flight around the head of Arthur's cock. There was no doubt; the fairy was supremely _interested_ in what had just happened and Arthur wasn't surprised when the creature landed cautiously on the tip. He huddled there, a light weight that didn't even bend Arthur's hard-on, and peered inquisitively at the honeyed depression, even going so far as to press his slight hand in again, slower this time.

England snapped his head back with a frenzied gasp, immediately regretting the brusque movement which upset all the alcoholic sediment that had settled in his brain, further complicated by the electric pleasure that jolted through him as he was gentle stroked inside-out.

It still burned, still felt strange and wrong, but the deliberate slowness made an enormous difference, turned the violation into a wick burrowing inside and lighting him from within. It felt good but it was still far too intense, too concentrated on such a delicate opening. Arthur keened, a noise caught between pain and pleasure, confusing even to his own captive ears. However the fairy didn't stop, thrusting his hand slowly in and out of Arthur's cock, pressing deeper each time. Arthur could feel the fairy's fist inside him, was able to track his progress as the painful ball continually bobbed lower.

Arthur whimpered piteously and felt himself trembling, unable to stop the shaking as his cock was gently reamed. He was on the verge of thrashing in order to wake Alfred, who still slept imperviously next to him, but the idea of explaining that a fairy was currently fisting his urethra to someone who couldn't see mythical beings seemed like a farfetched idea, even to Arthur's addled brain.

Luckily he was spared embarrassment as the fairy's wings beat into an invisible flurry, lifting him up from, and out of, Arthur's throbbing cock. However he hadn't even gotten his sigh of relief out before the fairy was lowering again, hips aligned in a disturbing parallel that made Arthur groan at the painful prospect. It was the obvious conclusion and Arthur bucked his hips in a desperate bid to dissuade the fairy from following through. But if there was anything Arthur had learned about the creatures it was that they made up for their diminutive statue with pure stubbornness. He could do little but watch as the fairy tracked his movement like a wanton will-o-wisp, bouncing closer as Arthur's efforts faded.

Arthur finally collapsed in exhaustion and the fairy landed at the same moment, scrabbling to get a good footing before unceremoniously thrusting inside in a single fluid jerk. The opening was slick and still stretched from the fairy's fist; as the smaller cock pumped into his own Arthur was struck by the difference in sensation. Shorter and blunter, the fairy's cock lacked the abrasive edges of knuckles. The smoothness and the shallowness of it dampened the hypersensitivity that had been burning Arthur to whimpering cinders and instead made the frantic rutting feel strangely ticklish.

 _Pleasurable_.

(In a fucked-up kind of way.)

Compounded by the way the fairy moved on the head of his cock, arms and legs wrapped around him, wings pumping furiously to rapidly lift and drop his hips; the grappling grip stimulated the entire glans, both inside and out. Arthur shuddered and tried to buck his hips up into the strange scrabbling sensation; he wanted to feel it across his whole length, wanted to complete the limited circuit.

However the fairy took no notice of the way his perch jerked beneath him. His tiny face was contorted in awed concentration, mouth hung open as his magic aura seemed to glow brighter in time with his thrusts, blue flaring to near-white.

Arthur was helpless to move the fairy and let his head loll back instead, panting and writhing and closing his eyes to try and sort out the racing signals that didn't quite relay to his drunken-gummed synapses. There was a rising block, something surging up like a wall, whether alcohol or denial that the debauched debacle was even happening…

It actually took a second of concentration for Arthur to realize that it was an unexpected orgasm.

And of course there was nothing he could do to stop _that_ either.

Arthur didn't even get out a warning moan as his cock stiffened and twitched, spurting milky ribbons of release that blew the fairy off of him and spinning into the air. It would have been a funny sight no doubt if Arthur's eyes hadn't been busy rolling back in his head. The orgasm was so abrupt Arthur almost couldn't feel it, knocking him senseless instead.

As Arthur belatedly came back to his right mind he saw the fairy hovering in front of his nose, gesticulating angrily and shaking off opaque smears from his body. He couldn't help but give a lazy not-nearly-apologetic-enough grin at the tiny furious creature. Upon seeing it the fairy seemed to puff himself up with a scowl and grabbed his small cock. He began to rapidly beat off right before Arthur's widening eyes and it only took a few seconds before the fairy suddenly flashed a bright alabaster and Arthur felt a small warm splatter across his lips.

Stunned, speechless, stupefied; Arthur could only stare at the smug fairy as he crossed his arms over his chest with a nod of approval. The gloating didn't last long, after another second the fairy seemed satisfied and was flying away again, taking a mean swipe at Arthur's flagging cock as he went.

Arthur lie there, still bound, but at the very least relieved of his blue balls. He dimly wondered if Alfred would be able to taste the fairy jizz on his lips in the morning when he kissed him and apologized for leaving him tied up all night.

Not wanting to risk it, Arthur licked his lips and then he gulped; swallowing both his wounded pride and his salty shame.


End file.
